Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Tunisia and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Black Pus to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by The Fugs. All the underground hits.
All Nils Olav tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lizzy Mercier Descloux record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Graham Central Station record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Pus,
Angry Samoans,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Gabor Szabo,
Buzzcocks,
The Birthday Party,
Can,
Throbbing Gristle,
Los Fastidios,
The Five Americans,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Minutemen,
Jeff Lynne,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Hashim,
Lucky Dragons,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Crime,
Reagan Youth,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
New Age Steppers,
Roy Ayers,
Wire,
the Soft Cell,
Gichy Dan,
Minnie Riperton,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Flash Fearless,
Boredoms,
Shoche,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Amon Düül II,
Judy Mowatt,
Yusef Lateef,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Fad Gadget,
Ronan,
Lou Christie,
Lower 48,
The Dave Clark Five,
Lalann,
F. McDonald,
Matthew Halsall,
Parry Music,
Sun Ra,
Jandek,
Albert Ayler,
The Mighty Diamonds,
La Düsseldorf,
L. Decosne,
David McCallum,
Dead Boys,
X-101,
Boz Scaggs,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Soft Machine,
Pantaleimon,
Aaron Thompson,
Gil Scott Heron,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Dave Gahan,
New Order,
Donald Byrd,
The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.